


Awkward First Date

by SarenX



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, M/M, awkward first date, castiel - Freeform, they go on a date and it goes hella wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarenX/pseuds/SarenX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the DESTIEL FOREVER Fanfiction challenge. "PROMPT #18. Awkward First Date where anything that can go wrong... does. Maybe Dean (or Cas) would try to play it smooth, but things go hilariously awry? Have fun with it, basically. I would love to see it cracky."</p><p>SUMMARY: Dean Winchester has never been the type of person to look for love, he usually just lets it come to him. But when he finds a new love interest online, everything he could have ever imagined when meeting him in person goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward First Date

 “Mffmmm…aggh,” he moaned, climbing out from under the beat up truck. He brought himself to his feet and brushed off the small pieces of gravel embedded in his forearms. “Should fix it,” he said, confidence coating his tone. The owner of the truck nodded his head and shook hands with the gruff mechanic, satisfaction evident in the strength of his gesture. “Just make sure ‘ya grease it every now and again. The engine is a lot more sensitive than you’d think.” Dean suggested, now wiping some leftover grease from his hand with a dirty rag. The owner gave a quick nod and hopped in the truck, starting it up with a smile on his face.

Dean returned the smile, admiring the way the truck’s new engine whirred when it was turned over. “All in a day’s work…” he assured himself and headed into the small control room with the computer so he could log the job he just completed. He entered the information into the system using the handwritten paperwork as a quick guide and closed out the job. He turned his attention to the loud, crooked clock bolted to the wall and instantly was relieved. Five o’clock. Time to leave.

He quickly made an escape from the control room, avoiding his boss, and climbed into his own vehicle – the notorious ’67 Chevy Impala that everyone knew him by. He sat there for a moment as always, taking in the lustful scent of old leather and gasoline. After his mind settled some, he started up the roaring beauty and gunned it out of the parking lot.

In no time, he was home; thankfully, where he lived wasn’t too far from his job, making the commute easy and quick. But the best part was not having any traffic to deal with after work, as the backroads allowed for a fast route to his apartment, and that was more relieving than anything.

As he pulled up to his apartment building, he sat there for a moment, staring at the grease still caked heavy on his hands. With a soft sigh, he climbed out of the classic car and forced his legs towards the front door. Finally, he was able to get inside and relax. The days were always long for Dean. His tedious, draining job at the car shop always left him near dead by the end of each day, but at least it was something to pay the bills.

Although his apartment wasn’t much to be proud of, he was thankful to have a place to come home to and relax. Not really hungry, he decided to skip dinner and head straight to his bed where his laptop lay. He slipped into the comfort of his covers, grabbing his laptop and opening it up to the page he last had open. A chatbox.

He studied the ongoing conversation for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts and recollect the information that had been exchanged the previous day. “Hey”, he typed out, hitting enter so fast, he was amazed how fast the message went through.

The conversation went on for about an hour, the pitter-patter of the keyboard seeming to relax him. The smooth feel of the keys as his fingers brushed across them, the low sound of the keys clacking away beneath his finger tips – what a beautiful sound. Especially when the sound purposed from a routinely late-night conversation with an interesting soul. As gruff as he was, Dean enjoyed a sweet conversation. And what better person to have one with than the man on the other side of the screen? A small smile traced against his dry lips as he read back the response from the light-hearted Castiel. “Where would you like to meet?” he read, beginning to contemplate his next response.

Pondering for a moment, the green-eyed man hovered his fingers around the keyboard and typed back “Anywhere that lets us be together.” Satisfied with that reply, he sat back an anxiously awaited a reply, staring at the “…” bubble popping around the other side of the chat window.

The next day was like a dream come true. The late Saturday morning seemed fine. The sun was out, the rain would stay away for at least another week, and Baby – the notoriously beautiful ’67 Chevy Impala everyone raved about – was indubitably supped up and ready for a spin around town.

Everything seemed wonderful. _What could possibly go wrong?_

The ever so tired Dean turned over at the sound of his alarm and rolled out of bed with a smile on his face. This had to be the first time he woke up smiling, ever. With how his life had been going lately, he thought he would never get out of this tired slump, but a miracle came into his life and he was not about to let that slip away. With that positivity on his mind, he began his morning routine to get ready. On his way to the bathroom, however, he noticed the light had been left on from the previous night. Weary about this, he cautiously crept over and pushed open the door, relieved to find that no one was in there and it was just his mistake that the light was left on. He chuckled to himself and sat down on the toilet, finding it lucky that there was just the last bit of toilet paper left on the roll.

‘ _I’ve got to get some more on my way home tonight,’_ he thought to himself and stood up from the toilet. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and hopped in the shower, making sure his razor was still sitting on the soap ledge and not off in limbo somewhere. He made note of the item and reached to turn the water on. Expecting a fair temperature, he was highly surprised by the piercing chill of pressured water beating against his skin. Chills ran up his spine and quickly, he shut it off.

Aggravation set in at this point and he tried to control his anger. Maybe it needed time to warm up…He tried again, this time letting the heavy water pound against the wall instead, hopeful that the heat would kick in soon. To no avail, Dean gave up on trying to take a comfortable shower and sucked up the pain through a brisk shower.

When he was done, he couldn’t believe his own foolishness. He yanked the curtain away from the tub wall and realized no towel was to be found in the entire bathroom. “You have got to be kidding me,” he complained aloud. Aggravation still showing through, he carefully stepped out of the bathtub and onto the plush rug, hoping that he wouldn’t slip and break his neck.

Successful, the naked, soaking wet Dean trotted through the house, fearful that his roommate would catch him. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case and he made a victorious skip to his room, where he slammed the door (by accident of course).

He let out a loud sigh and glanced around his room, contemplating his date attire. He made his way to the closet and sifted through the semi-nice dress shirts and chose a sleek, black button down with cuffed sleeves. Perfect. He then dug through the bottom of the closet to find the nicest pair of jeans he owned. He yanked them from the pile and gave them a quick whiff, realizing the pants were actually dirty and stained with grease. His eyes fell with irritation and a heavy frown masked his face. “Seriously?” he questioned to himself, stomping towards the other side of the room. He dug through another laundry basket but to no avail. Every other pair of nice pants was dirty! Just great.

He shook his head in disbelief and reached for his cell phone sitting on the bed. Scrolling through the numbers, he found Castiel’s and gave it a call. The phone rang at least four times before another voice accompanied the line. Soothing and settling, the voice spoke: “Hello?” Castiel answered.

Flustered, almost automatically upon hearing Castiel’s voice, Dean choked and said “Hey, uhh… Sorry to do this. I’m running late. Can we postpone the mall thing? We can still do the movie and dinner, it’s just uhh….” He paused, wondering exactly what he was trying to say. What _was_ he saying?

The other man chuckled and responded to Dean’s stutters. “That works, actually… I have a few family things to take care of, so we can meet up later. Movie at 3?” he asked.

Dean nodded his head in agreement with the deal and replied back with an “mmhmm”. Castiel gave an “okay, great!” and hung up.

As the call ended, Dean looked down at the phone wondering exactly what just happened. _Was that real?_ He questioned in his mind. He sighed in relief and looked back to the corner of the closet where the dirty pants lay. Steady on his feet, he sauntered over, feeling a little better at the amount of time he now had to get ready. He grabbed the pair of pants and threw them over his shoulder. Before he walked out of the room, he found a pair of boxers and threw them on so he wouldn’t be at risk a second time getting caught naked.

He made his way over to the laundry room and threw the grease filled pants in and started the load. He took a moment to clear his mind, attempting to regain the excitement he felt the previous night. “Please don’t let anything else go wrong….” He muttered to himself letting out a stressed sigh. He turned around to walk out of the room and found himself in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge for some good eats.

After digging through the fridge for a good ten minutes, he came out with  a chicken salad sandwich, some leftover pulled pork and a half eaten burger from Wendy’s. He brought it to the table and nommed for a while, enjoying every sweet bite of the processed food. Once he was satisfied, he took a gander at the clock, making note that it had some how gotten to be around 11 AM.

Making his way back over to the laundry room, he was glad to find the was cycle had ended and now he could throw them in the dryer. And he did so, also placing a smelly good dryer sheet in there to mask any lingering dirt smells and to, of course, rid the pants of static.

After the dryer cycle was started, he figured he would work on his hair, seeing as it was still a mess from waking up. Dean wandered over to the bathroom and took a good, long look in the mirror. He analyzed himself for a while, staring at his complexion and the way it was dulled under the fluorescent lighting. His eyes traced the reflection, popping around each small blemish and grimacing at the fact they even existed. He sighed some and shook his head to clear his mind. He opened the medicine cabinet attached to the wall and drew out his styling gel, glopping a mass in his palm and rubbing both hands together.

He bobbed his head a little, trying to get a right angle for a good style and began applying the gel. Luckily, there was just enough for today and his hair was looking right. When he was done, he played around with his facial expressions some, attempting to be aware of how he looked while interacting with other people.

Dean was not really a perfectionist, but when it came to things he really cared about, sometimes he got a little anal. He smiled in the mirror, frowned, waggled his eyebrows, pursed and puckered his lips, and studied his teeth. Apparently, he had a weird face. Whatever. It’ll have to do.

With that, he walked out of the bathroom with his perfect do and sauntered over to check on his pants. He opened the dryer door to see the progress, but what he pulled out of the dryer was almost devastating.

 _Ripped. Everywhere._ “God damnit!” he yelled, gripping the jean fabric tight in his hands. He stared angrily down at the pants, cursing in his head at the faulty dryer unit. “This is fucking great.” He huffed and threw the pair on the ground and stomped out of the laundry room and back to his room for another pair. He dug through his laundry again, only finding a dingy pair of jeans that could *maybe* pass as presentable, but what other choice did he have? Shrugging it off, he made due and slipped the pants on over his boxers. Now that he was at least half way dressed, he figured he could use some type of body spray to hide the dingy, old-laundry, I’m-a-mechanic smell. He found his favorite cologne – Stetson black, to be precise – and gave his arms, chest, and crotch area a good spritz.

Now we has ready to roll. He went back to his bed and found the shirt he planned to wear and slipped that on as well, buttoning it up just enough to cover the middle of his chest and leaving a little room for a chest tease.

Everything seemed to go….semi according to plan, but he was going to make it work either way.

He took another look at the clock and noted the time. Noon.

It was surprising that it took him an hour to get ready, but if you put into consideration just how much time he spent looking at himself in the mirror and making faces, it all makes sense. Still, three more hours to kill.

Dressed and ready to get a move on, Dean found himself getting real bored real fast. Perhaps he could waste his time watching TV or playing a game? Okay, sure.

He gave it a shot. Turned on the TV,  only to find more upsetting news that the cable bill wasn’t paid and there was now nothing to watch. Video games it is, then.

Dean slipped a disk into the console and had at it with a good shooter game, something he usually enjoyed on the weekends when he needed to blow off some steam. But this was also a good time, seeing as how he had a lot of anger to diffuse from the morning’s inconveniences.

Two and a half hours into the game and he figured that was enough. It was a great time killer, that’s for sure, but now it was time to get down to business and meet this guy.

* * *

It was going to be a great evening. At least, that’s what Dean kept telling himself. With every bit of nervousness racked up, he walked out to his car and stared at it for a while, trying to collect his jumbled thoughts. Did he even know where this guy lived? He let out a heavy breath and pulled his phone from his pants pocket, remembering that the address was in a text message.

He studies the text message for a moment to let his mind register the area in which Castiel’s house is located and nods is head as it sets in his mind. Taking another deep breath, he climbs into the Impala, shoves the key in the ignition and turns it over.

Except not.

A sputtering, stirring sound roars from the engine and Dean cocks his head to the side, confused. He tries again.

Rrr—rrr—aarrr.

His eyes widen some at the faltering and placed his hands steady on the steering wheel. A low growl escapes him and he hisses in aggravation, “C”mon, Baby…”

He turns it over again and thankfully it starts. Relief washes over him and instantly his anxiety settles. “There we go…” he praises, running his hands over the wheel.

Finally, he’s ready to move on. He pulls out of the parking space and heads on down the  road towards Castiel’s house.

* * *

The drive wasn’t as bad as he thought. The sky was clear and the roads were surprisingly not busy for a Saturday. It had been a long time since Dean was out on pursuit for a special someone, and it seemed to be the only thing on his mind. He was thinking of things to say, how we would greet Castiel, what he would say at dinner…. He figured a script in his mind and practiced it instead of listening to music like he normally does.

Typically, he wouldn’t make such a big deal about it, but this seemed a lot more special than the other times he met with people. Then again, those were clients, not necessarily love interests. Time to step up the game.

He glanced down at the GPS map on his phone and noticed the map had rerouted itself. He furrowed his brows at the instance and pulled over to take a closer look at what exactly happened. He pulled up the list of directions and read through them, nodding his head as everything seemed fine. Just for kicks, though, he referenced back to the text Castiel sent with the address and it was then that he noticed something off. The city was wrong.

“Oh god, are you kidding me??” Dean huffed, sitting back in the driver’s seat with utter annoyance. He had been driving a good 20-25 minutes in the wrong direction. Awesome.

He drew in a deep breath attempting to alleviate some of his frustration and gave Castiel a call.

“Hey..I uh… Got lost…. I’ll be a little late, sorry…” he said, his voice slightly coated with shameful embarrassment.

On the other end of the line, all that responded was a “no problem, see you when you get here!” At least it was positive.

Dean ended the call and pulled the GPS map back up and rerouted the destination to the correct city, and off he went to Castiel’s house. For real this time.

* * *

Nervousness seemed to be a popular feeling today, as it once again crept up Dean’s spine. As he pulled up to Castiel’s address, he stared at the front door for a few moments, contemplating whether he was going to man up and ring the doorbell or chicken out and leave the guy hanging.

Doubts raced through his mind, circling around to the same conclusion that if he didn’t take this chance, he would probably just give up on trying to find someone all together. He wondered why he was even so interested in trying to find someone, but maybe it was just a time in his life where he was actually maturing and he needed a partner.

He shook off the thought and climbed out of the classic car and made his way up to the front door. He smoothed his hands over the sides of his styled hair in an effort to try and relax and proceeded to knock on the door.

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

This was it. Judgement day.

His sweaty hands clammed up even more so as the door brisked open, gusting a wind against his face. His eyes steadied on the face in front of him and all that shone through was amazement. A gloss covered his stare, and he froze, not really knowing what to do or how to act.

The man was fucking _beautiful_.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel said with some enthusiasm, pushing his way past the visitor and shutting the door behind him.

“Uh, hi… Castiel..” Dean nearly whispered his interest’s name in a sign of nervousness and he let out a heavy huff, trying to catch his breath.

“So what movie are we going to see?”

“We can pick when we get there.” Castiel smiled, his bright whites lighting up his already cheerfully illuminated face.

Dean forced a half-smile, trying not to let his anxiety show through his demeanor. He drew in a deep breath and released it softly, gathering himself and walking Castiel to his car. Like a gentleman, he rushed to the passenger’s side and flung the door open as a kind gesture.

As kind of a gesture it could be, anyways, considering he clipped Castiel’s cut with the sharp edge of the door when he swung it open.

“Oompf!” Castiel groaned, stepping back some and holding his abdomen, slightly bent over.

“I’m sorry!” Dean apologized, his voice shaking and his movements awkward. He reached his hands out to try and help, but retracted them as Castiel stood upright and let out a sharp breath.

“Heh, nice car,” he commented.

Dean ran his hand against the back of his neck, nearly sweating at this point. “Eh heh, thanks….”

And so it began.

They both climbed into the car and set out on their excursion to the IMAX theater about an hour away from their location, as it was the best theater in the area and they both had a huge interest for oversized movies with overbearing speakers.

* * *

When they arrived to the movie theater, Dean found himself to be a lot more excited than he thought. He wasn’t sure if it was the movie he was excited about or the company he was with. Nevertheless, he was genuinely happy.

The two of them stepped up to the ticket booth and browsed through the selections and current showtimes, both deciding on the same movie. It was a safe call. Stupid comedy and a good way to kick off the date.

After getting the tickets, they went inside to check out the snack area and see if getting a popcorn bundle was worth it. Dean wasn’t really into popcorn or the whole “movie theater snack” thing, but it seemed that Castiel was, so he decided to entertain him.

“Since you paid for the ticket, I’ll get the popcorn and drinks,” Castiel said, leading Dean over to an open register. They approached the cashier and ordered a large popcorn, two large drinks, and a package of candy. As Castiel would put it: A good movie is not enjoyable without something sweet to munch on. Plus, it goes with the salty. Perfect mix!

The attendant gave them the large order in one of those flimsy bundle boxes, and of course it was very top heavy. Dean held it against his chest and wobbled his way over to the condiment counter so he could butter up the popcorn for his date. “I guess he likes it extra buttery…” he mumbled to himself as he pumped the butter all around the fluffy golden pieces in the bag.

Feeling as though he added a plentiful amount, he gave himself a treat and added some of that ratchet cheese salt that always stains your hands and clothes. It was a guilty pleasure.

He turned around to face Castiel, who seemed to be driven with appreciation that Dean actually listened to him in previous conversations and was coating the popcorn with butter. He offered a slight smile, his expression making his blue eyes light up. “Are you ready?” Castiel asked and took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Dean replied and on they went to get their tickets checked and advised which theater room they would be in.

“Number 19….” Dean said out loud as they came up to the door.

Castiel, exchanging the gentlemanly gesture, held the door so Dean could walk in with all of the stuff in his arms. They quickly found their seats and sat down just in time for the previews to end and the theater to go dark.

“Turn off your phone,” Castiel whispered, turning his off in the process.

“Already a step ahead of ya,” Dean said and gave a strange wink. Embarrassment instantly struck him and he turned his head away quickly, cursing himself in his mind like ‘what the fuck was that?’

He heard a small chuckle escape Castiel and instantly, his face was hot and his palms began to sweat again. ‘Calm the fuck down, Dean.’ He cursed again to himself.

He was almost mentally slapping himself, trying to figure out exactly what was going on with him. It was definitely out of character for him to be so nervous. What was it about this guy that made him feel this way? He had to find out.

With that on his mind, he settled into his seat and followed suit with he rest of the movie goers and stared up at the screen as the film started.

* * *

They were both equally enjoying the movie and thankfully, they both got in a few good laughs at some parts. Dean wasn’t really a popcorn person, but he did dig through the bag quite fast.

It took about half the coke he had to make his bladder so pressured that he just couldn’t hold it anymore, so he stood up to make a run to the bathroom.

Dean put the popcorn bag on the floor and stood up quickly and then paused. He stood there for a second, his eyes going wide. He sat back down for a brief moment and stared off at the movie for a few seconds before turning to Castiel.

“I think I have a problem….” He whispered lowely to Castiel, who was leaning in to hear Dean’s statement.

“What happened?” Castiel whispered back, concerned.

“My leg..it…. the butter leaked all the way through.” Dean whispered back aggressively and stood back up to leave the theater.

Castiel wasn’t far behind him. He followed Dean out to get a better idea of the situation and see if he could help at all. “Dean?”

“God damnit!” Dean bitched, staring down at his drenched pant leg. “It is fucking everywhere, even trailing down my leg!”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s distress. The guy was covered in butter. Who wouldn’t laugh a that?

“This is funnier than the movie…” Castiel joked.

“Shut up!” Dean huffed, obvious embarrassment shrouding him. “What the fuck, man.”

“Let’s just say screw the rest of the movie and go to dinner. Huh? Sounds good? Let’s go.”

Dean sighed heavily and nodded along to his date’s suggestion and limped out of the theater with him. “We should definitely see the movie in full some time, though…”

“We can turn around. Do you not want to go to dinner with me?” Castiel cocked a brow and halted.

“What? No, I never said that!” Dean was so puzzled. _What is it with this guy?_ He was so interesting.

“Alright, then let’s go. I was thinking Italian…” Castiel let his voice trail off as he continued down the way towards the parking lot.

A smile appeared on Dean’s face and he sped up his pace so he could get to the car faster, as he was now eager to get out to the restaurant. This was going to be great. Finally, things started to feel like they were going right. Excitement was rising in him and it made him feel comfortable. This was basically what he was waiting for.

When they reached the Impala, Castiel was quick to climb in and Dean had actually apologized for not getting the door for him. Castiel shrugged it off, as he wasn’t really the type that liked to be pampered. He was just there to have a good time and hopefully Dean was picking up on that.

* * *

Thankfully, the drive to the restaurant wasn’t too strenuous. In fact, the vibe seemed to be changing. Instead of nervousness creeping against his spine, it was replaced my comfort and excitement. Something that everyone should feel when they’re accompanied by a desirable date.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the couple made their way up to the podium host stand to be seated. They were in luck – a table had just opened up as soon as they got there. The night was certainly turning around and things seemed to be going smoother. The same question from earlier in the day rang in his mind: _What could possibly go wrong?_

The host lead them to the available booth and took their drink orders. Dean would have a regular coke and jack and Castiel just wanted water. It was pretty typical for their personality types. Besides, maybe a drink would allow Dean to loosen up a little more.

While they were waiting for their drinks, the only thing that filled the air was silence. This was actually awkward.

Dean wrung his hands and stared at Castiel for a moment. “So…….” He started, his voice trailing off some. “Uhhh….. you never told me where you worked… You know I’m a mechanic.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a mechanic.” Castiel stated flatly.

“What? Sure I did! I told you on one of our conversations.” Dean insisted, trying to recall the conversation.

“No… You told me that you wanted to become a car specialist. You never said you were mechanic.”

Well, that’s just awesome. Dean was replaying the thoughts back in his head and he really couldn’t bring up the conversation where he said that he was a mechanic. _Shit_.

“Oh, well…..” Dean’s voice trailed off and he turned his face away, obviously in the wrong.

Luckily, the drinks were here. As the server set them down on the table, she took their orders for appetizers and gave a quick smile before walking away to put in the order.

“So. You’re a mechanic.” Castiel stated, sipping at his water.

“Yeah…..And you are?” Dean nagged with a little bit of an attitude.

Castiel straightened up and placed the water back on the table. “I work at a church.” He said in all seriousness.

“You get paid to work in a church?” Dean was really taken aback at the discovery of his date’s job.

“Uh…Yeah? How do you think they’re run? People get paid.” He took another sip.

“By donations to the Lord and Savior? All I know is you like, consume the body or some shit.” His brows furrowed some and he sat back in his seat, trying to repel Castiel’s instant attitude at the conversation.

“Okay, seriously?” a now aggravated Castiel expressed. He copied Dean and sat back in his chair, continuing to sip at the water. “Why would you think that? Are you mocking me?” He sat forward and put his water glass down.

“What? No, I’m not mocking you. Cas----“

“Castiel.” He corrected Dean, clearing his throat.

“Castiel. Sorry. I, uhh…” he paused as his eyes focused on a distraction sitting on Castiel’s shirt. It looked like a stain. With a swift motion, Dean unraveled the silverware in his napkin, dipped his napkin in Castiel’s water and leaned over the table to touch on the stain.

“What are you doing!?” Castiel basically shouted, pulling away from Dean.

Dean stood up and hovered over the table, still attempting to touch on the stain. “I’m helping you! There’s a stain!”

“Is this really necessary? Are you serious right now??” Castiel was getting pissed.

“Come on now, Castiel! Let me help you!” Dean leaned further over the table and Castiel scooted back in an attempt to get away  from him.

As the server was coming back with their appetizer, the scene she witnessed was almost unreal. Dean was pushing the table towards Castiel while he leaned over trying to clean up his shirt, and Castiel was pulling the table cloth with his chair in an effort to try to get away.

The table cloth became taut and Dean lost his footing. Over went the table, and then Dean.

“Dean!” Castiel yelled as he toppled over under the table and his date.

Dean fell over ontop of the table, almost hurting his gut in the process. He stared down at Castiel and gave a clumsy smile, huffing out at the tenseness of the situation.

“I got the stain, heh.” Dean said mildly and grunted before he pulled himself to his feet. He held out his hand for Castiel to take and helped his date up off the floor. “You look nice tonight, Cas.”

Castiel huffed and stared at Dean, now beginning to laugh. It was a chain reaction, because Dean began to laugh as well. “Everything that could have gone wrong, did. I just wanted to have a good night and give you a good night.” Dean stated, hoping for forgiveness.

“Look, it’s a lot better than any other date I have ever gone on. Definitely…different.” Castiel appeased, staring into Dean’s beautifully green eyes. “Very different.”

They smiled at each other and turned to look at the server who was standing there basically with her mouth still open. She assisted the in picking up the table and continued to serve them until their dinner was over.

The rest of the night went pretty well. Thank god.


End file.
